


I'll Be There For You

by wendlaswound



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Comedy, F/F, F/M, M/M, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Sort of? - Freeform, This has probably been done before whoops, friends crossover, its the 90s so, none of them are together to start with, will go to ansgt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-04-18 23:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendlaswound/pseuds/wendlaswound
Summary: Friends, but better.(Updates on the weekend. Hopefully.)





	1. The One With the Runaway Groom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the shortest chapter, so no worries there. I just wanted to get a start. Comment your favorite Friends episodes or plotlines so I have content for when I run out of ideas lol.

            Marvin ran aimlessly through the streets, dizzy and tired and unable to find his balance or focus his vision. He thinks that he might have kicked some street performer and gotten yelled at, but he couldn’t remember. The lights and windows he’d known so well blurred in his vision and made his bare hands tingle uncomfortably. In the melee, he loosened his bowtie and was able to focus just enough to take a deep breath and direct himself to something familiar. _The Grind_. A gay bar turned coffee shop. But if you asked, they’d spike your latte with the leftovers from when the bar closed. He knew well from the two times he’d gone there in college after some disastrous dates. It was appropriately ironic to find himself there at that very moment.

            He paused in front of the door, the people on the sidewalk brushing past him with their anger and joy shouted for all to hear, the pavement pounded by their rushed steps, while Marvin simply stood there, silent and numb in the tux he’d gotten for his wedding but with his left finger bare. He had nowhere else to be, he’d canceled all of his appointments for the day with a soft “Sorry,” and a sprint down the aisle.

            A sigh sunk out of him as he rubbed his face roughly and walked inside.

* * *

 

            “No, really! The man on the subway had a third ear!” Marvin halted as soon as he stepped inside, bewildered by the words of a tall man stooped on a small chair, furiously gesturing to two women who were seated on a cherry red sofa. It was a harsh red, and he shook his head and rubbed his eyes, wondering for a brief moment if he’d stepped into an alternate dimension. Who knew what kind of punishments the universe had in store for someone who walked out of their own wedding?

            “Whizzer, honestly, you need to stop drinking Tequila for breakfast.” The dark-haired woman said, setting down her wide coffee mug and flipping the page in her magazine. Marvin glanced back at her, puzzled that she looked so familiar.

            The man slouched back. “Fine. Don’t believe me. But when the aliens come and start mutilating you, too-“

            “Charlotte?” Marvin murmured, mostly to himself, finally placing the woman on the couch in his memories. Though he’d said it softly, she heard him, and the group at once all turned to look at him. He recoiled slightly, but Charlotte was up and wrapping her arms around him before he could pay mind to look embarrassed.

            “Marvin! Oh my god! It’s been so long!” She held him out, assessing his tux. “What… are you wearing?”

            “I, uh-“

            The blonde girl on the couch spoke up before Marvin could truly make a fool of himself. “Lottie, who’s this?” She set down her crossword and peered at them with a puzzled smile.

            “Oh, this is Marvin! My best friend from high school!”

            “Oh! The one you thought was gay!”

            Charlotte gave him a nervous “I have no idea what she’s talking about” look, but he noted the glare she shot her friend. “Well, please. Come sit, come sit.”

            Marvin did, in a grimy recliner across from the other man.

            “So, what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in years.”

            “Well, yeah um… I’m getting married today.”

            He held up his hands to stop their congratulatory squeals. “I… _was_ getting married today. I kind of… walked out.”

            Their open mouthed gaps were nearly too much. Marvin went to stand up.

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa, honey, what happened?” Charlotte asked sweetly, leaning over to pat his knee.

            “I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”

            “No, no, of course. Let’s get you a coffee.” She got up to do just that, leaving Marvin alone with two strangers who proceeded to awkwardly stare at him. After one too many beats of Charlotte-empty silence, the blonde girl piped up and held out her hand.

            Marvin took it, all of her rings cold on his sweaty hand. “I’m Cordelia, Charlotte’s friend from college. She’s told me so much about you! I’m surprised we haven’t met up before.”

            “Really, what did she-“

            The man on the chair butted in before Marvin could finish his question. He swaggered over so that he leaned on the armrest of Marvin’s chair. “And I’m Whizzer. And may I just say that meeting you has made my day,” he said, and held onto Marvin’s hand for a moment too long.

            Cordelia rolled her eyes and slapped his arm. “Whizzer. This is not the time.”

            “What? He said he just left his own wedding, so at least he’s _available._ ”

            She shook her head regretfully, and Marvin breathed a sigh of relief to see that Charlotte was coming back to break all of this up.

            “Alright. Black for you,” she set a mug in front of Marvin, and he took a scalding gulp before he could think twice or regret it. “And another latte for me, and tea for Cordelia.”

            “And…” Whizzer batted his eyelashes at her expectantly. Marvin had to admit, they were some eyelashes.

            “And none for Whizzer, because he still hasn’t returned my blue sweater he needed to “borrow” three months ago.”

            “Ha, yeah, about the sweater…”

            Charlotte had started to roll up her magazine, presumably to whack Whizzer, but was sorrowfully interrupted by the entrance of a loud but short man in the ugliest brown turtleneck Marvin has ever seen.

            “Oh my god you guys, oh my god, you’ll never guess who I just got off the phone with,” he said as a hello.

            “Mendel, what’s up?”

            “So, get this, I’m sitting in my apartment, watching the new Freud documentary, when I get a call from the girl I was in love with in high school, Trina Goldblum, and it turns out she was getting married today-“

            Marvin’s vision goes blank for a second and he has to grab the arm of his chair to not fall over. Trina. His Trina. His wedding. Holy shit.

            “-but that’s not really the point because her fiancé _walked out on her_! Can you fucking believe that? And she’s pregnant!”

            At this point, the other three were looking at Marvin with wide, startled faces, though he tried his best to slink back into his chair and become invisible.

            “Can you guys believe that?” Mendel went on. “Anyway, I invited her over here once she escapes her reception disaster so I hope that’s okay and why the hell are none of you paying attention to me, this is-“

            That was when Mendel caught sight of Marvin.

            “Holy shit.”

            Marvin gave a small wave in acknowledgment. Mendel merely continued to stare.

            Charlotte, the saint she was, intervened. “Honey, how about we go up to my place and settle this down, yeah?” She took Marvin by his shoulders and pulled him up. Cordelia slung her arm around his back so that they were both practically carrying him. “We’ll talk to you later, Mendel. Whizzer, are you coming?”

            Whizzer waved her question away. “Nah. I think there will be more drama down here. I’ll meet up with you guys later. Don’t undress the groom without me.”

            “Is he always like that?” Marvin murmured.

            “Yeah, pretty much. You get used to it, though.”

            The streets were more familiar when he stepped outside again, but this time it was as if he were the murky one, the thing he couldn’t fit into his own memory.

            As Charlotte and Cordelia led him up to the apartment, he murmured, “I need something to drink.”

            To his surprise, Cordelia snorted and huffed, “I think we all do,” in reply. “Come on, bud. Let’s booze you up.”

            It was the best thing he’d heard all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On some of my other fics, I've shared playlists with certain chapters, or referenced songs, and I'm going to do that here, but to a lesser degree. I'll share one-three song(s) at the end of each chapter, not necessarily one that "goes" with it necessarily, but one that put me in the mood while writing it. So there you are.
> 
> Little Grace // Hippo Campus


	2. The One Where Marvin Moves In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin goes to patch things up with Trina. Trina doesn't really want to patch things up. Yes, Whizzer's ex-boyfriend is Kevin from Come From Away, but in this his name is Harold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is 1:36 am and I am posting this gee danged fic because I wrote all of it today please do not let my sleep sacrifice be for naught

            “As for alcohol, we have rosé, a single Bud Light, and… rosé.” Cordelia assessed the blue can she held. “Charlotte, has this been in here for two years? The last time I saw you drink a beer was the last time you hosted Fourth of July.”

            “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t drink it. And not just because it was cat piss to start with.”

            “Rosé would be splendid,” Marvin assured them as he held his head in his hands, trying not to collapse onto Charlotte’s small dining table. Her apartment overall was nice; not a penthouse, but tidy and roomy. Everything was neat and had its place.

            Except for Marvin, of course.

            Cordelia poured him out a glass twice that of what a normal person would have. Charlotte added a shot of Vodka with a wink. “I have this for emergencies.”

            “What?! You have a secret vodka stash that you never told me about? I thought we were friends, I really did.”

            “Hush, now. It’s Marvin’s turn to be dramatic.” Charlotte’s intense, caring gaze fixed on him and he couldn’t bring himself to meet it. “Alright, hon. Tell us the deal.”

            And he did. Though he hadn’t seen Charlotte in nearly six years, and he’d just met Cordelia ten minutes ago, he told them everything, like a dying man confessing his sins to a priest. He’d downed the rosé like it was a line of shots, and started with Trina and him working in the same office two years ago. One year ago when a friend of theirs convinced Marvin to ask her out. The first date, the second, the time they had a few too many drinks. The morning after. The next morning after. The week after, when Trina told him she was pregnant. The next day, when he’d proposed. Two months ago, moving in together. The past three months planning the wedding in a hurry to keep their little secret as discreet as possible. This morning, when he’d woken up nauseous and dazed, so much so that his brother practically had to put his suit on him. The drive where he said nothing. The beginning of the ceremony, where he took one glance at Trina, his heart sinking into his gut, murmured to her his apology, and ran. Just ran until he’d made it to The Grind. And with that, he’d caught up to the present.

            Charlotte and Cordelia had been silent the whole time he’d spoken, and they maintained that for a long while after. Marvin glanced between them and groaned, his forehead meeting the cool surface of the table.

            “Oh, Marv,” Charlotte rubbed his back. “Well… maybe this is for the best. You only married… were going to marry Trina because of the baby. Do you love her?”

            “I don’t… dislike her.”

            Charlotte and Cordelia gave each other a look.

            “Well, maybe this is for the best, then.”

            “Maybe it’s for my best, but what an ass I am. She’s pregnant! And I just left her there, in front of both of our families. I was going to marry her because I was going to help her raise the baby, and now what? Oh, Jesus. I fucked up.”

            “Now, now, it’s not the time to try to deal with all of this. You need to sleep it off, and look at it tomorrow with a fresh mind. I can call you a cab or an Uber whenever you want.”

            Marvin made an unholy noise and blinked furiously to keep any tears from spilling over. “Oh, god. I can’t go home. Not tonight. Not if she’ll be there. No…”

            “Oh, honey, that’s alright, it’s fine. You can stay here. As long as you need. You can borrow some of Whizzer’s clothes. It’s alright.” The calming pressure of her hands on his back only made his head spin faster and his stomach tie itself into knots. No one had tried to soothe him in such away since he lived with his parents. It was too much, too fast. All of it. He covered his face with an arm. “Jesus. I have to get out of this suit.”

            “I’ll go grab some of Whizzer’s stuff,” Cordelia volunteered.

            “Since when do you have a key to Whizzer’s?”

            “Since _none of your business,_ ” Cordelia snapped back as she slammed the door closed behind her.

            Charlotte chuckled lightly and rolled her eyes. “Whizzer lives right across the hall. That’s how we all met, and that’s why we haven’t gotten rid of him. That, and Cordelia keeps giving him food. He’s actually a dog.”

            Marvin laughed, just a little, and it was enough to keep the tears from falling.

            Charlotte smiled. “Now, since you’re my guest, what would you like to eat? I can whip something up, or we can order something in, or if you’re really desperate, you can have some of that pot of stew Cordelia left here and I’ve been slowly dumping down the drain over the last month.”

            “Whatever. I’m not very hunger.”

            “That’s depression hunger, thinking you’re not hungry. I’ll fix you up some grilled cheese, how about that?”

            Marvin sighed, defeated. “Sure, Charlotte. That would be great.”

            A moment later, Cordelia came back and tossed him a stack of clothes, then glanced over at the set up Charlotte had started. “Grilled cheese? What about the stew I left here?”

            Charlotte and Marvin shared a look. “Marvin hates stew. His grandmother made it all the time. And she smoked.”

            “Oh, well I bet he’ll love mine-“

            “No, no. He can’t. I remember from school. If he even looks at stew he’ll projectile vomit. All over. It’s nasty.”

            Marvin covered his mouth to hide his grin from Cordelia.

            After a moment, Cordelia shrugged. “Well, your loss, Marvin.”

            Charlotte gave him a wink as she turned up the griddle, and Marvin took Whizzer’s clothes into the bathroom to change.

* * *

 

            Shortly after nibbling on a triangle of grilled cheese, Marvin retired to Charlotte’s very blue guest room and clocked out immediately. Charlotte shook him awake early the next morning and murmured that she had to go to work, but Cordelia would stay here with him. Marvin breathed out heavily in response and fell back asleep as she closed the door. When he finally got up out of bed, the light streaming through the window was enough to set him out for the day with a headache. Or maybe he was slightly hungover. Either way, today was going to be a headache in general. He had to call Trina. Had to apologize to her. Had to figure out if they were still together and if he could come back. And if not, he had to make other arrangements.

            He sat on the edge of the bed, startled that neither outcome was altogether repulsive or ideal to him. The gray taste of neutrality and vague displeasure assaulted his mouth and cast him with a deep frown. Cordelia noted it as she greeted him in the living room.

            “Rough night? Ha, why do I ask?” She bounced up out of the armchair and made her way into the kitchen, where something was most definitely burning.

            “Why aren’t you working?” Marvin asked to match her chipper “good morning.”

            “Oh, I don’t actually have a job.”

            “You what?”

            “Yeah, I’m a street performer. And an amateur gourmet chef.” She flipped her hair at that, which Marvin noticed was riddled with braids and went nearly all the way down to her waist. It seemed to almost fade into her dress, a long and flowy soft yellow with a sweater to match. _Oh, god, she’s a hippie,_ Marvin thought.

            “What about you?” she asked, and it took Marvin more than a moment to realize she had spoken to him.

            “I was supposed to be on my _honeymoon_ ,” he told her bitterly.

            She laughed airily, like a pixie. Marvin was getting annoyed. “Right. Isn’t that a bitter pill, huh?”

            The smile he gave her was more of a sneer, and he turned to the living room and angled himself haphazardly on the couch.

            “Pancakes are ready whenever you want some. I mean, it’s noon, but it’s never too late for breakfast in my books,” she called out, though Marvin was already bolting back to the guest room in a panic, muttering _shitshitshit_ to himself. It was already so late. Now he wasn’t just an asshole, he was a lazy, thoughtless asshole. What a great apology, coming like an afterthought. Though pancakes were usually a priority of Marvin’s, now was not the time.

            In the guest room, he spun in frantic circles, looking for clothes he didn’t have. He groaned, his hands jittering without purpose or thought. Then he heard the door open. He peered through the doorway from the guest room. _Whizzer. Thank God._

            “I need your clothes!” Marvin said, running towards the other man.

            Whizzer paused and looked at him, pleasantly puzzled. “If you want me to take my clothes off, all you have to do is ask.”

            Marvin nearly shouted, but held himself back at the last second. “No, I need you to lend me some more clothes so I can go home and either patch things up with Trina and stay there, or go home and get some of my own while dodging the furniture being thrown at me.”

            Whizzer shrugged his shoulders and went to take a heaping plate of pancakes. “I don’t know, I think what you have on now is fine.”

            What Marvin wore as pajamas were, in fact, Whizzer’s signature style: tight and bright on top, and tight and short on the bottom.

            It was not Marvin’s style.

            “Please, I’ll even pay you,” Marvin groped for his wallet before Whizzer held up his hands to stop him.

            “Whoa, whoa, no need to go throwing dollars around until someone actually starts stripping.”

            “Why the hell is everything sexual to you?”

            Whizzer shrugged again, which Marvin had to note, was also very sleek and sensual in nature. God, he hated the bastard already, and it hadn’t even been a full day.

            “Sometimes you just gotta look on the bright side to keep the dark from bogging you down.”

            Marvin caught a glimpse of Cordelia nodding sagely in agreement. He shook his head, hoping to end this conversation. He succeeded, as Whizzer left to get him more appropriate clothes. Or so Marvin hoped.

            In the meantime, Marvin glanced at his phone, which he’d left on the kitchen counter the night before. Thirty-four missed calls, seventy-three unread messages. Jesus.

            He deflated again and collapsed on the table, but propped himself up long enough to open Trina’s contact. Surprisingly, none of the messages were from her. Something stung sharply in his chest, but he shook it out as he typed a quick note without reading it over.

            _Stopping home in an hour. Please, be there. I’m sorry._

He hoped he was still allowed to call it home.

            Whizzer, mercifully, came back with a new stack of clothes that contained jeans and a flannel. “These are my ex’s, because I would never own anything so… _blech._ ”

            “Harold’s?” Cordelia asked curiously?

            “Yeah, the Canadian Harold.”

            “Ah, the gay lumberjack. I was so sad when you broke it off. He loved my egg salad.”

            “Don’t worry, Deli. If a boy don’t like your egg salad, he ain’t the one for me.”

            Marvin was more than happy to leave to go change. Whoever’s clothes these used to be, Marvin was at least comfortable. On a physical level, anyway. His mental state had much to be desired.

            When he wanted to be, Marvin had a single-minded focus that was unrivaled. That was how he moved, going to meet whatever disaster he had made for himself. He marched his way to the front door and had nearly made it before Whizzer dived into his path.

            “What do you want now?” Marvin snapped.

            “Whoa, I was just thinking I could get you a coffee before you go have one of the shittiest conversations of your life. Like, really, I’m a hoe, but even I wouldn’t leave someone at the altar.”

            “Yeah I know, I’m an awful human being, now just-“

            “Really, I think you need some caffeine. You look awful. Let’s go to The Grind, and then you can go solve your marital crisis. Coffee makes any relationship kerfuffle easier. Trust me, I know.”

            Marvin was unable to protest at that point, as Whizzer strongly gripped his arms and led him out into the hall. He heard Cordelia shout one last “But who will eat all these pancakes?” before the door swung shut behind them.

* * *

 

            Marvin was jittering enough without any coffee that he knew he should protest further and just go and get it done with, but there he was, in The Grind, against his will.

            Whizzer, though, was grinning. “Now, I’ll go order you the strongest drink in the shop, and you can just go sit down and _oh shit-_ “

            Turning to the red couch where Whizzer had fixed his horrified sight, Marvin let an _oh shit_ of his own slip out. Trina. Here. And Mendel. Not that Marvin really cared about Mendel, but his presence didn’t help anything.

            Because the universe hated him, Trina and Mendel turned to see the two idiots making a fuss before they were able to run out, though Whizzer had gotten as far as grabbing his collar and starting to drag him towards the door.

            Trina caught sight of him, and then it was too late to spare anyone. Her face twisted into the one she got when she ate pickles or limes. “Marvin,” she sneered.

            “Trina,” he breathed.

            “Well, I’ll let you two work this out,” Mendel announced to them happily, then began lunging towards the exit.

            Whizzer turned to look at Marvin. “And I came here for coffee and the muffin menu, so I’m staying.” He gave him a firm pat on the back. “Good luck!”

            Marvin replied with a mocking smile, then turned back to Trina who was doing everything she could to not look at him. Each step he took towards the couch he had to think about, how far to move his leg, how to balance his foot on the floor. It was a small eternity, just to walk to her. At the last second, he decided against sitting next to her and opted for the wooden chair Whizzer had been in when they’d met.

            “Hey.”

            “I have nothing to say to you.”

            “Well, I have a few things I need to say to you, and it would mean a lot to me if you heard me out.”

            “Well, it would mean a lot to me if we were on our plane to the Caribbean right now. But I guess we all can’t get what we want.”

            “Trina, baby, I can’t even tell you how sorry I am, how awful I feel-“

            “Then why did you do it, Marv?” She stared at him straight on, and after a moment he was the one to back away. When the silence became too deep, she repeated herself, softer. “Then why did you do it?”

            When he still didn’t answer and hadn’t moved to stop the tears flowing down her face, she moved on to a new question. “Marvin… I know our situation wasn’t… _ideal_. But did you… did you even love me? At all? Even for a moment? _Ever?_ ”

            Marvin stared at his hands. “I…”

            “What, Marvin? What?”

            “I… don’t… No. Trina, I didn’t love you.”

            The breath that Trina released was the one before someone’s last words, the breath held before the gun lets the bullet fly, the one no one ever wants to hear.

            Despite the ache in his chest from seeing the pain he caused clear on Trina’s face, he couldn’t help but feel the smallest bit of relief. He didn’t really love her, though he tried to tell himself he did. He’d known from the beginning, and he played along because that’s what he thought he should do. And although the truth eased his heart, the rest of him shivered with regret.

Tentatively, his fingers stretched out and he tried to take her hand, but they were tucked into her lap and he quickly decided against it. “I _cared_ about you Trina, I care about the baby, I was happy with you-“

            “No, you weren’t. You weren’t happy. Not really.”

            Marvin didn’t know how to respond, so he just went on. “Maybe I-“

            “No, Marvin. No more. Just… _please._ Please stop. Let’s stop.”

            “What are you-“

            “We’re done, Marvin. I’m sorry it had to be this way. I’m sorry we still have the baby to worry about. I’m sorry it will be such an inconvenience to you. But now we’re done. I should have known from the beginning. I’m sorry that I didn’t stop it sooner. But _please_ , can we save ourselves some grief and just let it go? Let _us_ go?”

            Marvin tried to pretend he wasn’t crying. He met her eyes, her tear-streaked face, and gave her the slightest nod. She stood, smoothed her dress, and left. Marvin didn’t know how soon after, but eventually Whizzer came and took Trina’s place.

            He sipped his coffee, nonchalant, and set another before Marvin. Neither of them looked at each other, until Whizzer’s obnoxious voice broke the silence. “I’m honestly very surprised no one got slapped right there.” Another sip.

            Marvin’s glare was pointed, but it seemed to have no effect on Whizzer. “Not yet,” he told the other as he stood and left. “But you’re very close.”

* * *

 

            Charlotte returned home for the evening after a shift at the ER. Still in her scrubs, she held Marvin’s hands as he went through several mini breakdowns, like the aftershocks of an earthquake, while Whizzer and Cordelia looked on.

            “I just… God, why did I have to get her pregnant?” Marvin bemoaned to the omniscient presence of fate, who clearly had some earbuds in whenever Marvin called out for help.

            “You see, I would rather be asking why did you have to sleep with a woman, but to each their own, I suppose,” Whizzer told him, not at all helpfully, and stuffed another spoonful of Cordelia’s stew in his mouth. Luckily, Cordelia did not question how Marvin was not spewing up his pancakes.

            “Oh, honey,” Charlotte crooned, patting his arm supportively. “You can stay here as long as you need. Until you get back on your feet. We’re here for you.” The smile he gave her was weak, but it was all he had left in him.

            “You know,” Whizzer started, interrupting the brief peaceful moment that Marvin had had in the last forty-eight hours. “He could always stay with me.”

            Marvin thought he would rather eat the stew, but he was unable to express this sentiment quick enough before Whizzer went on. “Cordelia stays here often enough; it could get crowded. And I’ve always wanted a roomie.”

            “And you barely make rent each month,” Charlotte pointed out helpfully.

            “… Yeah, that too.” He turned Marvin expectantly. “So, what do you say? I mean, you’re wearing my clothes already.”

            Though he hated to admit it, Marvin could see the logic in the whole arrangement. He knew he couldn’t stay with Charlotte forever. Or Whizzer, for that matter, but he believed that the latter was less likely to get rid of him as easily. And if he really has a problem, both apartments were three feet away from each other. So no big deal.

            “Alright. I literally have nothing left to lose,” Marvin decided reluctantly after a long moment of consideration.

            “Alr _iiight_ , yeah! I got me a roomie. We can go pick up some of your stuff tomorrow and get you all settled in. You can sleep here tonight if you want, or you can come over right away, whatever.”

            “Yeah, whatever.”

            The conversation moved on after that, but not before Marvin caught the look between Charlotte and Cordelia. He couldn’t read it. Though he didn’t try very hard to.

            Heaving a sigh while the others’ voices buzzed around him, he buried his head in his arms, praying to whatever would listen in the hopes that he didn’t just screw up the rest of his life in one stupid day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finding Something To Do // Hellogoodbye


	3. The One With The Morning Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trina pukes away her sorrows and Marvin officially moves into Whizzer's apartment with the help of a rather bright vehicle.

The morning two days after her botched wedding, Trina grew rather close to her toilet. At least it was there, with her, while she was racking up the leftover catering she’d eaten for all of her meals the past two days. It was there for her to wrap her arms around and take in all of the horrors that came along with pregnancy.

Unlike Marvin.

She pulled back from her most recent bout of puking and wiped her hand across her forehead. Sticky with sweat, she pressed it against the cool white tiled walls, a sigh of relief as the oppressive heat subsided for a small moment.  

Several minutes passed with no stomach churning, so she stood up slowly and stiffly and wiped her mouth with a tissue. Her appearance in the bathroom mirror looked more banshee than blushing bride, but there was little she could do to help that. Not like she particularly cared.

She poured herself a small glass of the sparkling water that tasted like death, but it was the first thing she grabbed and she didn’t feel like putting any more effort into looking for something better. Rather than sitting on the couch, she let herself fall sloppily, her drink sloshing slightly, and waited patiently for the next time she’d have to get up and puke. Her stomach grumbled loudly, as she hadn’t eaten that morning, not wanting to fuel the monster. A long sigh shuddered in her chest, and she pushed it out until there was no more air in her lungs. It was her alternative to breaking down into sobs, and thus far it had been very effective.

Just as she settled in, the doorbell rang, startling her from the façade of calm that she had begun to conjure. She groaned, moving to get up and answer it. Her drink sloshed out of the glass and onto the side table as she plopped it down. The bell rang again, making her jump a second time.

“I’m coming,” she murmured.

The bell rang again.

“I’M COMING!” she growled this time. The bell did not ring again.

Though there was only the slightest swell to her belly, she hobbled to the door like she was nearly in labor. The sun was bright behind the door and she squinted, covering her eyes.

“Hello?”

“Hi!” said the man on her doorstep, though Trina couldn’t see him in the painful light.

“What do you want?” she groaned, thinking wistfully of her moment of peace that had been broken by some dumb telemarketer.

“Um, don’t you remember me?”

Trina muffled a sigh, dropped her hand to her side and squinting as her vision focused. She was no less puzzled or annoyed than before, but she was at least able to recognize the man that stood on her porch. “Mendel? From the café?”

“From high school, actually. But yeah! Hi!”

“Um, hi?” Trina hissed, though her ‘guest’ didn’t seem to notice her sour tone. He spun around in the entryway, appraising her home. With his gaze, Trina felt crawls ripple across her arms, the inspection drawing her into herself. Her head spun with a sudden bout of dizziness, and her stomach became vaguely unsettled. _Not now, you temperamental bitch_ , she scolded it mentally.

“What a lovely place you have! Really charming. You know, I just love the _warm colors_ ,” he chuckled awkwardly and Trina didn’t even bother to smile. He’d let himself into her _house_ after all.

“Thanks. Uh, why are you here?” She finally decided to be blunt rather than feign hospitality. She could barely pretend to be a good hostess when she wasn’t a mess of pregnancy hormones and nausea.

“I-uh, me? I was just… checking up on you.” The end came out as more of a question than an expression of empathy.

Before Trina could respond, her stomach did for her. It let out a roar of abandonment anger, which Trina chose decisively to ignore. Mendel did not, and his eyebrows shot up as if he’d just witness an elaborate circus trick. Or that he’d just been electrocuted. Trina didn’t know him well enough to categorize his expressions so precisely.

“Well, I thought I’d stop by, and ask if you wanted to go out for dinner sometime. _Not like a date or anything,_ I just figured you haven’t had much time to cook and maybe leftover catering was getting a bit old.” He waited for her response impatiently, sticking his hands in and pulling them out of his pockets, tapping his fingers on his sides.

Trina was taken aback for a moment. First of all, he was very correct about the leftovers. _How did he know about the leftovers?_ And then, did he just ask her out? He said “not like a date,” but Trina saw the way he stared at her boobs yesterday as he sat across from her and listened to her weepy tale before Marvin came in. She was a sexy lady, especially now that her curves had gotten deeper from the beginnings of her pregnancy weight gain, but the full-blown belly was still weeks off. Why wouldn’t he want to go on a date with her? But, dear lord, _Marvin_. She was going to marry Marvin. _Two days ago._ Could she actually go out with someone two days after breaking off an engagement? Was that allowed? If she accepted, who would be at fault? Her for accepting, or him for asking in the first place, especially since he was fully aware of the situation?

But then again, she was pretty hungry. Her stomach grumbled again, graciously reiterating its argument.

“That sounds nice,” Trina said after a moment of silence began to teeter on the edge of embarrassingly awkward.

Mendel, who had obviously been holding his breath, released it. It was almost as if he had collapsed, but then he was grinning and Trina forgot about the informality of the whole encounter. “Ah, great. I can pick you up tonight-“

“Oh, shit, tonight,” Trina gasped, remembering that her mom had planned to come over and drink a whole bottle of wine on her behalf and help her vandalize Marvin’s belongings. “I… can’t.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment.” And plans to sleep all day and watch soap operas, but she didn’t need to add that. “Wait, how about Thursday night?” Thursday night was the time Marvin had planned to come over and pick up his stuff. Trina strongly preferred to not be present for that.

“Thursday? That would work. And don’t worry about dressing up or anything. It’s casual. Strictly friends.”

“Friends?” Trina asked belatedly, not certain that that was the accurate way to describe their relationship.

“Yes. Well, I’ll see you Thursday!”

He bolted out her door without a spare “goodbye.” Only after he’d left did she regain her wits.

“Hey, how did you get my address?” she shouted out her door, but Mendel was already gone.

* * *

 

Marvin had lived with Whizzer for over half a week, and he was genuinely surprised that he hadn’t felt like throwing himself off of the terrace yet. Whizzer welcomed him in that first night to splendid accommodations of his couch, including a flat pillow and a ratty blanket. Marvin nearly requested to go back to Charlotte’s but thought that that would be starting them off on the wrong foot. He briefly reconsidered leaving after Whizzer murmured, “I’d let you stay in the guest bed, but the last person who stayed there, he sure had something going on, if you know what I mean.”

Yet, Marvin had stayed.

By the light of morning, he was able to see how much of a mess the place actually was. It was virtually a mirror of Charlotte’s apartment, but with none of the neatness. Posters and pictures were half-fallen off the walls which were cracked in more than one place, piles of unwashed dishes filled the kitchen, and something furry was dead in the corner, and Marvin did _not_ want to know what.

It was nothing short of a nightmare.

Remarkably, however, Whizzer had helped him beginning cleaning things up and rearranging that morning so that there would be room for Marvin’s stuff. They even tackled the guest room, wearing gloves and masks, sweetly provided by Charlotte, as they threw everything out into the street.

“You sure we can just get rid of all of this?” Marvin asked, feeling guilty that he was making Whizzer throw out half of his apartment. But after several strongly worded texts from Trina, Marvin knew he would not be returning home. This was now a permanent arrangement.

The other man simply shrugged. “I picked it up off the street in the first place. It’s all returning to its homeland.” He’d given Marvin a grin. Marvin weakly returned the gesture, wondering what else Whizzer had gotten off the street.

But they’d managed, and by the third day he was living there it was spacious and aligned and there was nothing dead lying anywhere. Although, there was a smell coming from one of the kitchen cabinets that Marvin couldn’t bear investigating.

Whizzer was an actor, Marvin soon learned. Many of the posters covering the apartment were debunk indie projects Whizzer had been an extra for. “Look, here! I was Man Number Five in this one!” he boasted to Marvin, pointing to a poorly designed poster for some thriller flick that never saw the light of a cinema, _Vampire vs Cheerleaders._ “I got bit by one of the cheerleaders that turned into a vampire. By the way, I do _not_ recommend eating fake blood.”

Marvin nodded blankly rather than trying to answer sincerely. He knew he’d just sound like an asshole. “Good to know.”

So for much of that week, Marvin was home alone, which of course gave him plenty of time to clear away the dishes disaster and wipe down every untouched surface in the guest room. He went down to The Grind a fair amount, slowly killing his own soul espresso by espresso, but whenever Mendel was there he stared at Marvin curiously, and it made Marvin more than a little uncomfortable. Every once in a while Cordelia would crack a weak joke, or say something funny that wasn’t intended to be, and Marvin would laugh a little too hard, turning to his side and expecting Trina to be there to laugh with him. But no, of course, she wasn’t there. And if he was being honest, he’d probably never see her again after he picked up his stuff.

The thought left him with an ache in his chest, duller than one that he’d get from drinking too much coffee too fast, but consistent and deeper, a scar rather than a bruise. 

Nevertheless, it was the day, and he was still in denial. But he’d put on a brave face, and tried to focus on the fact that he was filling up a new life, rather than clearing out an old one. The transition was fittingly facilitated by the only bright yellow pick-up truck in the whole city.

“I know a guy,” Whizzer patted Marvin on the shoulder assuringly when he’d groaned about paying a moving van to go four blocks with half of a room worth of stuff.

And Marvin has said, great. One less thing for him to sweat over.

And then Whizzer pulled up to the curb and… well, he was surprised, to say the least.

“It’s yellow,” Marvin told Whizzer pointedly as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Whizzer snorted. His laugh was a sound Marvin had grown familiar with, like the smell of coffee percolating in the morning or a squeaky bedspring. Marvin still wasn’t certain if it was a good thing that he’d adjusted so fast.

“Couldn’t think of something more creative?” Marvin retorted, playing up their usual banter.

“It’s like you want me to leave you on the curb.”

“…alright. I’ll shut up.”

“Amen.”

So they drove the short route to Marvin’s old apartment in silence, the hum of the cheesy music Whizzer set the radio to seeping out the cracked windows. The sunlight was dimming, tucking itself in for the night under the skyline, and Marvin felt strangely peaceful.

Of course, the moment was all too short.

“This is it,” he directed Whizzer to the red brick stoop, and they parked haphazardly. Marvin would have complained, but he wouldn’t have been able to do any better.

“How long has it been since you’ve driven?” Marvin asked as they unbuckled their seatbelts.

Whizzer sat back and thought about it, before coming to a conclusion along with a pout. “Three years?”

“Three _years_?”

“That’s the big city life. Wow, the last time I drove was in Nebraska for my sister’s wedding. I do not recommend driving for forty miles in Nebraska with a minivan full of drunk people. That was the only time in my life I ever truly wanted to drive myself into a ditch.”

“Good to know.”

Marvin flipped through his keychain as he slipped out of the yellow monstrosity. He fumbled with the lock, nervousness striking him suddenly, and his hands shook, making the task that much more difficult. Whizzer merely stood behind him, whistling merrily and taking in the calm sunset.

When Marvin finally got the key in, he sighed deeply, his head thumping against the door in relief.

“You okay, bud?” Whizzer asked him with a pat on the back. Marvin’s throat went dry, so he gulped and nodded and opened the door.

Trina wasn’t home. Everything appeared just the same as before, long golden shadows streaking across the wood floors and the mild furniture arranged the same. But it was empty and hollow. Never would he have fancied that Trina and he had built a loving home here, but with their relationship shattered, something was missing. Loneliness was never more than two steps behind the both of them, but without the two of them to keep it in check, is was rampant to roam free.

Whizzer shoved past Marvin in his daze, thankfully rattling him enough to keep him from sinking too far into regretful nostalgia.

“Alright, let’s go. I don’t want to be at your pity party all night,” he muttered playfully.

Marvin wiped a hand over his face, leaving him with a shy smile.

He wasn’t happy, couldn’t think very fondly of the memories he had of this place. But at least he wasn’t leaving it for the last time by himself. At least when he left the empty house, he wouldn’t be going home to one.

Whizzer wasn’t necessarily Marvin’s friend, but he’d never been more grateful to have a roommate.

* * *

 

Trina was shocked to find her date with Mendel turning out to be one of the best dates she ever had.

True, that wasn’t saying much, since Marvin had been her only serious boyfriend, and the other two dates she had on her track record involved her sneaking out a window and ketchup art. But at least her night wasn’t a waste.

The restaurant was tasteful but not frivolous, red drapes and columns and clean wood tables, the waiters’ uniforms were (mostly) unwrinkled. The food was decent, but Trina hadn’t had much taste for anything since she became pregnant. She’d eaten so much that she felt she’d never eat again after the baby came out, and that was still _so many months_ away.

Oh, _god._

She whimpered mid-laugh, suddenly becoming emotional, but managed to play it off. Instead of tears, she was left with a wind of dizzying nausea. Not that she didn’t get those often now, but mixed in with the laughing and the breadsticks, she was on the verge of _something not good._

Mendel was going off on something one of his patients had done, which Trina was pretty sure was breaching several patient-doctor contracts, but she simply grinned with her lips sealed shut.

After several moments, it was clear that that was not going to be enough.

The next moment Mendel went for a big breath, Trina stood quickly to excuse herself.

“Sorry… I, barthro- go,” she choked, covering her mouth quickly. A genuinely fearful light caught in Mendel’s eyes, and that was the last Trina saw before she stumbled quickly to the small bathroom cramped in the back corner. Mercifully, it was empty. Trina dived into the first stall and spewed what little of the dinner she’d eaten thus far and bile. Her chest ached from the effort, and even long after the worst subsided did she sit on the cold tile and stare into the toilet.

She cupped tap water into her mouth, wiped it, washed her hands, and went back to Mendel, hoping she didn’t look as pale as she thought she did.

“Are you alright?” he lightly set his hand over hers, imploring sweetly. “If you need to go, we can-“

“No, no,” she shook her head, which made her dizzy again, but it subsided easier this time. “I’m fine. Just a little morning sickness.”

“In the evening?”

“My internal clock is a little off.”

Mendel smiled and laughed, which was something Marvin rarely did whenever Trina tried to be witty. After basking in arrogant pride for a few short moments, she nearly gagged. _Don’t compare them!_ she scolded herself. _Marvin’s gay! He didn’t love you! Mendel is a completely different man, and is actually willing to listen to you! Stop!_

Though their conversation went on and Trina’s thoughts were able to wander, the idea still lingered, and even though Trina was enjoying getting to know Mendel, she felt herself sinking when she thought of the last few years of her life that she’d wasted because of her own disillusionment.

She only fled to the bathroom once more that night, with two other close calls that she managed to choke down, figuring there was a limit to a number of times one could go to the bathroom without looking suspicious. It wouldn’t be a great way to end a date, being banned from a restaurant for excessive bathroom usage. She’d seen it happen before, and did not want to be on the opposite end.

Mendel walked her home, the sky still a hazy blueish gray, the streetlamps beginning to flick on as they went. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, make this a real date with real intimacy, but she felt as if her hand was a magnet with the wrong pole and repelled from his. She clung to her scarf instead.

It was a pleasant night, apart from the puking, and ended with a soft, awkward kiss on the cheek.

Trina locked her door behind her, leaning against it with her eyes gently closed, feeling torn despite the familiar air of home.

It had dimmed quickly just in the few short minutes they’d stood out on her stoop, and now her whole house was cloaked in shadow. Tentatively, shuffling her feet and her fingers beginning to shake, she flipped on the light switch.

The changes were slight, like a “spot the difference” game in children’s menus. The few lamps made for shadows to take the place of the gaps, a picture frame here and a knickknack there. Trina started down the hall to the bedrooms, forcing her shaky breaths to steady themselves. Her hand hovered over the carved wood, and she glanced in the small open crack and felt her heart squeeze in her chest.

A band-aid. Rip off the band-aid.

She threw the door open with her next exhale, and after the sigh and the sight, she truly felt empty.

The bed was still there, but Marvin’s nightstand, the one closest to the door, was gone. So was his desk, his clothes in the closet. It felt hollow, abandoned, like her house was just for show. No one would ever live somewhere so lonely.

A coughing fit shattered her chest after she choked on a sob. Once it subsided, she glanced back around the room. Her room now, singular.

She’d sobbed through her wedding night, moped the past week, but only now with Marvin’s pieces take out of her life, did she truly realize that she was alone. No dinners for two, no need to worry about playing a loud movie with Marvin asleep in the next room. No one to kill the spiders or to wrap her up when she was cold. She knew this was what had to be, but seeing it and now living it made it real.

Trina sunk to the floor slowly, leaning against the bedpost, and she cried.

* * *

 

It did not take very long to load Marvin’s stuff into the vehicular disappointment. What did take a while, however, was hauling all of it up the stairs to their apartment. Marvin had thought he was relatively in shape before, but after two hauls up he was already out of breath. Whizzer was chipper as ever though and didn’t comment on Marvin’s dramatically slowed pace.

They had not planned very well, so all the boxes and furniture had more or less barricaded them in the entryway. They stumbled through with minimal chitter-chatter, shifting the furniture in the bedroom and Whizzer stacking the boxes where Marvin directed.

“Why do you have so much shit?” he asked with a grin.

“Shut up.”

“You could make a good penny if you got rid of some of this. Have a yard sale.”

“In what yard?”

Whizzer just shrugged, still grinning.

As the sun neared the end of its setting, they finally crashed onto Whizzer’s ratty couch, everything in its place, for the most part. A spring dug into Marvin’s back, and only then did he regret not taking his couch too.

“Well,” Whizzer started after a long sigh. “Mi casa really es su casa now.”

Marvin snorted, suddenly overcome with tiredness. He stuffed his arms under his head, planning on dozing off, but a loud knocking at the door startled him before he could get very far.

Whizzer leaped up to answer it, and Marvin marveled at his agility and energy after so much work already. Marvin propped himself up and sleepily began to follow Whizzer to the door.

Unsurprisingly, it was Charlotte. She looked as tired as Marvin felt. “Hey, guys. Sorry to bug you this late-“

“Charlotte, it's eight thirty.”

“That’s late for some people. Anyway. There’s a… thing. In my bedroom. I need your help.”

“A… thing?” Whizzer attempted to clarify.

Charlotte nodded solemnly. “A thing.”

“Alright, I’ll-“

“Marvin you come too!” she called to him excitedly, then shrunk down again, back into her tiredness. “It’s a really big thing.”

“Mhm.”

The two-step trip from Marvin and Whizzer’s door to Charlotte’s was hollow, though Charlotte grew with anticipation by the second. She danced on her toes to open the door, then scuttled inside before either of the guys could follow. The door was open a crack, and it stayed that way for a beat before it was flung open.

“SURPRISE!” Charlotte and Cordelia screamed loud enough to get them a citation.

“What’s this?” Marvin asked, not believing they would have actually thrown him a moving in party after he’d been there less than a week.

Whizzer heaved a sigh, though a smile crept on his face as he did so. “It’s my birthday.”

“Your – what? I didn’t know you had a birthday.”

“… everyone has a birthday?”

Marvin huffed. “I meant –“

“Settle down. We all know what you meant.” Charlotte and Cordelia ushered Whizzer inside, seeming to forget Marvin was even there. To be fair, Marvin didn’t exactly blame them.

The threesome laughed and drank while Marvin sat on the sidelines, expecting to feel cut out, but actually becoming content with watching the rest of them enjoy themselves.

There were two cakes, one Cordelia made and one Charlotte bought, defending it with “I didn’t know you were making one! And there’s never too much cake,” laughing as Cordelia fumed.  

It was a peaceful night. Marvin hadn’t had such ease of mind in… _years._ Exhaustion suddenly blanketed him, his eyes drooping and his feet sinking heavily into the floor. For maybe the first time that night - Marvin hadn’t been paying undivided attention and was, at that point, too fogged to remember properly – Whizzer looked over at him. After a moment, he coughed, setting down his empty plate.

“Well, I think it’s pretty late. Marvin, you ready?”

Instead of replying, Marvin began hoisting himself out of his seat as Whizzer exchanged hugs and thank yous with the girls. Charlotte squeezed Marvin’s arm on his way out, whispering, “Thanks for coming.” Marvin nodded with a tired smile.

Once back at their own place, Whizzer crashed on the ratty recliner and Marvin stood in the door, looking at him.

“What?” Whizzer chuckled after Marvin stared a beat too long.

“I could have gotten you something.”

“What?” Whizzer said again.

“It’s your birthday,” Marvin turned to settle on the couch, unable to hold himself upright much longer. “I’m your roommate. I could have gotten you something if you would have told me.”

Whizzer processed this for a moment, then laughing, held his head in his hands. “Oh, god. Marvin, buddy, you didn’t know who I was a week ago. Besides,” he began to stand, approaching Marvin on the couch. “I helped you move all your shit on my birthday. You already owe me.”

“Now I owe you twice,” Marvin told him, the verge of sleep softening his voice.

Whizzer breathed lightly, not a laugh, but close. “Yeah, sure. Goodnight, Marvin,” he set off towards his own room.

“Goodnight,” Marvin replied, though Whizzer was already inside and closing the door as he said it.

Marvin sighed, heaving himself off the couch and shuffling towards his room. Towers of boxes crowded each corner, but his bed and nightstand were there. He didn’t have a full set of sheets yet, but the blanket and pillow he’d taken from the guest room closet would be enough for tonight.

The last thing Marvin thought of before he crashed was of the two favors he now owed Whizzer and wondered if he’d regret them later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so unmotivated with this chapter. Dear god. Sorry it took forever. I'll try to be more consistent, but no promises. Both because of the motivation issue and the fact that I'm posting this at 2:30 a.m., I also give no promises that it's good. If you like it though, please leave a comment or something to feed my drive to actually write more of this and to fuel my ego. <3


End file.
